Haunted
by siriuscos
Summary: A long time ago Draco was blamed for a wrongful act he never committed. For the past six years he had been believing that it was all an accident, but when the truth comes out, in a way less than expected, will he learn more than he wanted? On hold
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything, but Cree, her family, and the plot.

**Haunted Dreams**

_"Draco, lets go swimming!" The voice of a ten-year-old girl called to an adorable young boy._

_"Cree, I don't think it's a good idea. It's getting late and your mother will be here any minute. Besides, I don't want to," the young blonde haired boy called back. He had a bad feeling about the lake behind his house and he never went near it. He watched his best friend walk closer to the one place he was too afraid to go. Draco loved water, he had grown up near some sort of body of water his whole life, but that lake had something eerie about it, something that Draco just didn't like. "Cree, please come back. We have to go inside and go to sleep. Tomorrow is our first day at Hogwarts."_

_"Oh Draco, stop worrying. I just want to go for a quick swim. I mean, live a little. I don't care if you don't come, just stay there and I'll be back in a moment," the ten year old girl kept backing up, closer to the lake. Despite what most people thought, she was a very brilliant girl for her age. Draco was sometimes envious of her. He was smart as well, but compared to her he felt dumb._

_Draco turned around to go sit by his favorite tree. He was nearly there when he heard the terrified scream of his best friend._

Draco bolted up right in his bed and took a deep breath. He looked around the room and found it to be still very dark. He shook his head and sat back against the head board of his bed. He ran his shaking hands through his light blonde hair and closed his eyes. He just sat there, letting the beating of his heart slow before he got up. He slid his legs over the side of the bed and put his feet on the cool wooden floor before finally standing up. He paced slowly around the room, not even daring going back to bed. "Six years without one dream, why now?" He whispered to himself as he walked over to his desk. He pulled open a small wooden box that was lying there, inside were a stack of pictures, all moving of course. Draco smirked when he thumbed through the old photographs, each one showed him and his best friend when he was little. She had such a cheerful little soul. Everything she thought was always looking on the bright side, even if the bright side was too far to see. Despite being the youngest member of one of the oldest pureblood families, she was very kind hearted. She had always brought out a different side to Draco than anyone had ever seen. Cree Laddle was one of a kind.

Draco laughed at himself. He sounded so crazy thinking about this stupid little thing after so long. He hadn't touched this box in over four years and now he was dwelling on it.

"Draco dear," Draco turned around and found his mother standing at his doorway. She was adorned in a silk robe and was still looking her best, even though she should have been sleeping. "Are you all right?"

"Yes mother," Draco said simply, pushing the box of pictures behind him so his mother didn't notice that he had been looking at them. She nodded and left his room with a slight 'snap' as the door shut. Draco's mother was a well dressed woman and well respected, but she did have a heart when it came to Draco, he was her son after all. Draco sighed and put the pictures on his desk back in the box and pushed it aside. 'You're just being silly,' he thought to himself. 'It happened and now it's over with. No reason to keep thinking about it.' Little did Draco know, this memory of the girl he had called his best friend for so long wasn't going to let him rest.

Draco pushed open a door near his bed and walked in. He figured that since he doubted he was going to get anymore sleep that he should just start getting for the first day of seventh year. It was four in the morning and he was quite tired, but Draco couldn't even close his eyes to think without seeing her face there.

Draco slammed his fist into the counter before staring into the mirror. His hair had fallen into his face and he looked a lot paler than he normally did. His chest was sleek and he was still breathing deep. He shook his head and blinked before looking into the mirror again. 'Just a dream,' he told himself over and over. 'Only a bloody stupid dream.' With that he walked over to the bath and ran some hot water. He let it fill as he stripped of his clothing and grabbed a towel. When the bath filled he stopped the water and slipped in. He let the warm water wash over him, releasing him of all his tension, before he washed himself clean for the next day.

Draco walked around his room putting things into his pack while his trunk filled itself. He looked at the box on his desk and thought about bringing it. He didn't know whether or not he should, he hadn't the last 6 years of Hogwarts, but something now was telling him to, so he picked up the box and put it into his pack along with a smaller black one and left is room. He made it down the master staircase and into the lobby of his house where his trunk now was. There was a house elf moving it out to the car that was waiting for him. Draco said good bye to his mother and told his father he would try harder on his studies, after being yelled at, and left the house for Kings Cross.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: **

(It recaps a bit in the beginning… lot more detail though)

Draco walked through the manor without really saying a word to either of his parents or the house elves that gathered at his feet, eagerly asking him if he wanted anything. He just clutched the strap of his bag tightly to his tailored shirt and continued to walk through the house. Once at the front doors his mother stopped him. She looked him in the eye and knew something was wrong.

"Draco…" Draco only looked at his mother. He knew what she was thinking, but he didn't feel like talking to her or anyone else for that matter. He sighed and looked away from his mother. He rubbed his thumb over the strap of his pack and pushed through the front door of the Manor. His mother ran her hand along his shoulder as he left his home, but he still did not turn around to look or speak to her or his father.

He slowly made it down the stone steps of the Manor and across the freshly cut lawn. The flowers in the garden brought an array of colors to Malfoy Manor that made it seem somewhat pleasant. Sighing, he walked past the fountain on the front lawn and back to the pavement of the drive. He looked up to see a fancy white car waiting at the end of the drive. The driver would greet him as he always did and then it would be a silent ride to London.

Draco stared up at the green leaves of the trees and thought of how they would soon be dead and lying on the ground, waiting for the grounds' keeper to come pick them up. Draco bitterly shook the thoughts from his head. He didn't care for anyone other then himself and his family. He walked the last few steps to the end of the drive and pulled open the car door. The shimmering silver metal of the handle cool to his touch, he yanked his hand away and got inside. He, a bit too hard, pulled the door shut.

"Morning Master Malfoy," the chubby old man driving greeted the distraught young man in the back seat. Draco just waved his hand, as if to tell the man to leave him alone because he was not in the bloody mood to deal with him. The man took notice to the gesture and left the young man in the back to himself. Draco never cared much for the workers at the Manor and he never would.

"It will be a long drive," the chubby man driving finally said. "S'posed to rain as well."

"I don't bloody give a damn!" Draco snapped. He had told the fat man in the front that he wanted to be left alone and Draco expected to be listened to; after all, the only reason the man even had a job was because his parents couldn't be bothered with doing it themselves. Not this year anyway.

The fat man in the front stared into the rearview mirror, hurt, watching Draco cross his arms across his chest and continue staring out the window. "Eyes on the road you dimwit!" Draco snapped again. Normally he wouldn't have even bothered to talk to the driver, but he was having a rather difficult morning and he just couldn't keep control of his nasty temper. The man driving gave a short squeak before returning to his job. He ignored Draco the rest of the way.

However much Draco wished he could drift off to sleep or perhaps stare blankly into the window his mind continued to reel around thoughts of death and the eerie green lake behind his house. Two very unpleasant thoughts on their own, combined, however, they become much… much worse.

In desperate attempt to rid his mind of _all_ thought, he pulled out a packet of paper and drawing pencils and began to doodle. His father had let him know at a young age, mind you, that one should do things to make them seem more sophisticated. It's the only reason Draco ever learned how to play the Violin. His father had grabbed him by the arm and held him tight, telling Draco that he was to learn how to play it and play it well. Three hours a day his father made him play, at first he was bitter about it, but continued to learn. After a few years of playing, and playing well, he enjoyed it more. He used it often as a way to express himself in ways words could not come close to. Being a rich pureblood, such as himself, high standards were sure to follow. Sure enough, Draco's ability to serenade listeners with his music came somewhat of a delight to others. Draco's father had no problem with music. Drawing, however, Draco's father was more displeased with. A talent all on its own, it was not something that most Pureblood families looked at as delightful, so Draco kept it to himself. He did not want to displease his father, for he looked up to the man, as most sons' do with their father.

As Draco's pencil glided across the parchment all thoughts of his dead friend seemed to slip away. He didn't know what he was drawing and he didn't care, he'd most likely rid himself of the evidence later anyway. All he knew was that it was working and that's all he was looking for. A secret remedy to the pain of the thoughts.

He had no idea how long he had been drawing or when it had started to rain outside, but when he finished his picture it didn't really matter. He tore the picture out of the book and looked at it. He smirked slightly then folded the paper and stuck it back in his book. He stuffed the book into his bag without a second's thought of it. He hated that drawing was often his only remedy to clear his mind when he couldn't play music. He didn't want to go against his father in any way and he found himself angry with himself that he found some pleasure in doing so. He assumed he got that from his lovely mother, she didn't mind drawing, nor, for that matter, pure talent. If it gave satisfaction to her son she would look around it.

"You all right, Master Malfoy?" The driver asked, voice low and unsteady. Draco looked up slightly and nodded, not trusting himself to say anything.

With a low sigh Draco went back to staring out the window. The countryside was vast and green and that annoyed him too. Draco liked trees, big shady trees; the type of trees that you could just sit under all day, though he never voiced it and probably never would. Only one person knew that secret: Cree.

Draco shivered slightly as her name ran through his mind. He couldn't explain it, but it felt as if the air around him was somehow colder than before. He shrugged it off and stared back out the window. His mind slowly shut down as he zoned out, in an odd sort of sleep- state. He knew exactly what he was staring at and what he heard, but none of it was registering in his mind. A light stupor if you will.

The rain outside began to fall against the car like a blanket. Thick and hard to see through, but Draco took no notice to the fact he could no longer clearly see through his window. The only thing that brought Draco back out of this stupor was what he had thought he'd seen through the shield of rain. He could have sworn he had seen, off in the distance, a figure standing there, but after it settled in his mind and he squinted out of the window again there was no sign of a figure.

He knew it wasn't impossible to have seen the said figure in the distance because the country side was owned by other people and sometimes they often did take a stroll around the green landscape. Yet, the figure that he had seen, or rather thought he had seen, was different. When he saw it he could have sworn his blood ran cold, but what he couldn't understand was why only a glimpse at something that could have been something else entirely, would irk him so. _It could have very well been a bloody tree,_ he tried convincing himself, but it was to no use. He knew exactly what his eyes had fallen upon and he knew very well it had been a person.

With a groan he slumped back into the seat cushions. The ride to King's Cross was taking a lot longer than he had wished it would. He lived nearly six hours away from King's Cross station and he had been denied access to a fireplace to just floo to Diagon Alley and then go from there. His father did not want his son going to school with soot and dust all over his clothes.

Growling in frustration and boredom he pulled out yet another book, but it wasn't a drawing book, nor was it a school one. It was something he had picked up long ago in Diagon Alley. Flipping through the pages Draco found the perfect place to begin. He sat there and let the minutes slip away as his eyes skimmed each page with great interest. He took his time memorizing every word his eyes fell upon. He was no slow reader, but he was a careful one when he wanted to be. It was not news that if he found a book he actually liked, he would read it with care.

"Boy, I am going to stop here quickly. You wait here in the car and I'll be back shortly," the fat man said. Draco only raised a brow and then went back to reading. The man obviously was either extremely hungry and had found a place to stuff his face, or he had to piss. Draco shrugged.

Now that the car had stopped Draco could hear every pound that the rain made on the hood of the car. Rhythmically steady; a heartbeat of nature. Draco laughed at himself, it was no time to start thinking the way he was.

He sighed but nearly choked when he noticed the air around him had gone considerably colder, causing him to see his own breath. A little unnerved by the current event he sat back a little further into his seat. Just as quickly as the cold air had surrounded him, it had left. He was left with only the cold feeling it had left inside and the sound of the pouring rain. Relieved by it, Draco sat up and looked at the window again. Now that the car was still Draco couldn't see out of it for the rain was flowing down it like a waterfall. When he left there had been clear blue skies and now, not that long after, it was pouring like it wouldn't stop. As much as he loved England, he hated the weather.

He smirked and began to look around the car for anything that would possibly interest him. He found a sickle lying on the front seat, which he discreetly put into his own pocket and then began on his search again. He found nothing of real interest to him, besides the sickle. With a stretch of his arms Draco let his eyes wander slightly to the left before looking down at his pack again. He stuck his hand in, and pulled out the book of parchment once more. He opened it and removed the folded piece of paper and stuck that in the outer part of his pack. He grabbed one of his dark resolution pencils and started to draw again. It made him so angry he enjoyed doing it so, but he couldn't stop it. It was a contagious habit; if he started it he had to continue it.

Deciding to leave well enough alone, he began to draw the outline of a figure. The pencil moved smoothly against the parchment as he shaded and added detail to the girl. He just let his mind guide him as he drew. The more his mind escaped him, the more the details of the girl's face and body appeared. It felt as if something in the back of his head was telling him exactly what to do and how to do it.

With the last stroke of his pencil the lead snapped, leaving a dark dot in its place. He sighed and looked up, the rain had decreased, but the driver had not come back yet. "What the bloody hell is taking that man so long?" Out of the corner of his eye he noticed something move in the seat next to him. He sat still in his seat, as if to not disturb what he saw move. Observing his bag, from the corner of his eye of course, he knew well it couldn't have been it nor the strap. He couldn't tell why it unnerved him, but it did.

However, this irritated Draco. He was a Malfoy and a Slytherin, meaning he was supposed to be both fearless and a wimp. Draco shook his head at that, made no sense to him. Without a second's thought Draco turned his head to the left and what his eyes fell upon caused him to jerk back against the door and grasp for the handle. His hand was shaking as it searched for the door handle. No thought running through his head besides that he needed to get out of that car, and soon.

"Bloody fuck!" He growled as the door swung open, knocking him on the drenched earth. As quickly as he could he pushed himself as far away from the car as he could, heart bounding sickeningly in his throat. Finally tearing his eyes away from the car door Draco flipped himself over onto his stomach before throwing up. For minutes Draco lay like that, breath not coming easy.

"Master Malfoy, are you all right?" The worried voice of the fat driver came from behind him. Draco pushed himself up into a sitting position. He never felt so sickened by himself ever. He used his rain and mud soaked sleeve to wipe of his face and looked up at the man standing beside him.

"Get me out of here…" Draco said, voice raspy and low. As the man helped Draco off of the ground, he stole a glance towards the car. There was absolutely nothing in the back seat besides his pack and packet of parchment, which was now on the floor.

"Dear boy, what happened?" Draco glared at the man and pushed him away.

"Just get me out of here!" Draco snapped, now yelling at the old man. "I want out of here as quickly as possible!" Draco stormed back to the car, but hesitated slightly.

"Young Malfoy, at least let me dry… " He stopped quickly and Draco turned and glared again. The man just pulled out his wand and uttered a few words before Draco's lovely tailored clothes were back to normal. He hesitantly got into the car and waited for the man to get in. _I am NOT losing my mind, I just need more sleep, _Draco assured himself. "This will not be spoken of again, you hear me?" Draco mentioned, threateningly. The man nodded, but said nothing else. He just drove away without word to the young Malfoy.

* * *

Nearly five hours later Draco was sitting in a compartment alone. He had met up with his mates a little while before, but at the current moment, he wanted to be alone. He couldn't explain what happened in the car earlier and he wouldn't try to. He was content with ignoring it completely and that was what he was going to do. Everything would settle back into place and he would be able to forget about Cree, or he would try.

Draco leaned back on the seat cushion closed his eyes, trying to bring on sleep. He let his hand slip off of his stomach and down the side of the seat. It now dangled just above the pad of parchment. Drawn on the page was a young girl, not much older than fifteen. She had flowing hair and plain clothes and yet she had a natural beauty about her. Draco had drawn this girl quite often, but he never understood why. He wanted to figure out why he was drawing her and in all actuality, who she was. She seemed so familiar, but he couldn't place her. _One day…_Draco thought as he drifted off into sleep.

* * *

'_Seventh year Draco, can you believe it?" The strawberry blonde smiled. She twirled, causing her blue skirt to twirl open. She laughed and pushed down her skirt. Draco just simply nodded. He couldn't break it to her that he just wasn't the same person she thought she knew, that he liked being bad. _

"_I like you Draco," he sat forward to hear what she had to say and smirked. "But I've seen the way you treat others." She looked put down and sad, something Draco was not used to seeing on her face. _

"_What do you mean?" His heart was beating hard, he didn't want to hurt her; he never did. He just wasn't whom she thought she knew. _

"_You're mean…" She said flatly. " Why are you this way?" The hurt in her voice seemed to be overpowering. He couldn't understand why she was so hurt, he was nothing but kind to her. He knew he wasn't, even when he was told to be he couldn't. He cared for her. _

"_It's just who I am, all right? It doesn't matter to you!" He snapped. He had said it to her before he could catch himself and he wished, more than anything, that he hadn't said it. Her eyes, her beautiful hazel eyes were brimming with tears. _

"_You are a bad person Draco. Evil," she told him. Draco was sure that she would hit him and walk away from him forever, but she didn't. Instead she leaned closer to him and rested her soft lips on his. Neither one pulled away, but Draco could feel her hand on his cheek. Her skin against his was like ice. The kiss, the caress, and just everything it was as cold as ice. All of it was completely full of hatred. She hated him._

_Swiftly, she pushed him onto his butt after slapping him. She glared at him before saying, "It's all your fault."_

_Before it completely registered in his mind, she was gone from him. Draco sat on the ground holding his cheek and staring at the spot she once stood. When he brought his hand from his cheek, there was blood on the palm. She had clawed him._

Draco sat up on the train seat. He looked around and when it finally settled in his mind that he was on the train to Hogwarts, he calmed. "That is the last time I eat chocolate before sleeping," he mumbled to himself.

He sat up all the way and rested his back against the wall. Just as he took a deep breath the compartment door slid open and Pansy and Blaise walked in. He was about to snap at them for not obeying what he asked of them, but Pansy cut him off.

"Draco, what's wrong with your cheek?" She asked, worried. Draco was her friend after all. Draco eyed her curiously before she handed him a compact mirror from her bag. Draco brought the mirror up to the side of his face and glanced at it from the corner of his eye. Sure enough there were three little red marks.

"Scratched it."

Blaise looked at him suspiciously, but let it go in the end, as did Pansy. Draco, however, knew exactly where it came from and he was still trying to understand it.

"Draco what the hell is this?" Blaise leaned down from his seat on the bench to pick up the book of parchment and looked at it. Draco grabbed the book from Blaise and what his eyes fell upon shocked him. He now recognized where the girl was from, but above that _'It's all your fault!' _was scribbled.

_Cree.……_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter three:**

Draco sat at the Slytherin table with his arms crossed on the table and his head resting on them. The minute he stepped into the school the students seemed to swarm him, all trying to figure out why the blonde had three nasty looking scratches on his cheek. He could hear them whispering about how it was probably something his father gave him before he made it to King's Cross. That is, for those who didn't see him board the train. For those who had known very well his cheek was as pale and smooth as it ever was, those people, a much different story started spreading the school, more than likely how he had gotten into some row with a girl and she had scratched him out of self-defense. What they didn't know was how close to the truth they actually were.

"Draco, you needn't sit there and hide your face all day," Pansy told him from across the table, "No one is looking and they've all stopped talking, _and _Madam Pomfrey said she could fix it right up after the feast. Stop sulking."

"I am not sulking, Pansy," he answered her icily.

"Well that's what it looks like to me," she retorted.

"Not like you know much anyway," Draco whispered to himself. He looked up to see her glaring at him, so more than likely she had heard his comment. "I have a headache, Pansy, and it's not any of your business anyway. "

"Draco, what is your problem? You've been acting jumpy and cranky since you got here. Trust me, I am not the only one to notice."

"I don't care, Pansy. What I think about and what I do, is my own business. I do not like you snooping around and sticking your nose where it doesn't belong."

"Draco, before yesterday you'd boast about anything, absolutely anything. Now you are being all secretive. Did your father say anything to you?"

"**_NO!_** Pansy I already said I don't need you snooping about, nor do I want you to," he yelled at her, now noticing the extra attention he received for doing so. He glared at the other students and then placed his head back on his arms and let the sorting continue. Most of the little first years stared at Draco as if he were some sort of raving lunatic. Not the type of image about him that he really wanted to instill in their heads, but he had plenty of chances left to change that later on.

Blaise looked at Pansy from the left side of Draco, "I didn't do anything Blaise," Pansy stated defensively. Blaise shook his head and looked at Draco.

"Mate?" Draco reluctantly lifted his head and faced his friend.

"What!" he whispered dangerously.

Blaise looked at his friend intently, but in the end only shook his head and muttered, "Nothing."

"I can't stay here," Draco said before standing from his seat, causing all the eyes in the Great Hall to follow him out of the Great Hall doors. Draco quickly walked up the marble staircase, not sure where he was going because the Dungeon's were downstairs, but he didn't care. He ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath.

He held the breath as he leaned up against the wall of the Hallway he had just turned into. He groaned and slid down the wall to the floor, not a position he would be willing to be caught in, but he couldn't take it anymore. He was used to people staring at him because of how he treated people. He was used to people whispering about him because of his reputation as the bully. He was not used to what he was getting now.

"Why now, why this year? I don't understand. I forgot about her… I forgot about her!" he yelled into the empty hallway.

"Could you please keep it down?" one of the portraits whispered crankily to him, "Some of us are trying to relax."

"Oh, shove it!" Draco stood up and continued his way down the dark and empty hallway.

He was almost completely down the hallway when he heard a little girl laughing. Draco shook his head and wrote it off as being one of the portraits. Hogwarts had many portraits, many that he'd never even seen before. Who was to tell him there wasn't one of a little girl, after all there was one of a mother and a baby. Draco hated that picture; the baby never stopped crying. He found it unbelievably annoying.

"Bloody picture," he whispered and turned down another hallway. All was quiet, minus the slight murmuring of some of the pictures around him, "Nothing out of the ordinary," he told himself.

He was feeling quite better after twenty minutes or so of just wandering the halls, that is until he heard the giggling of the little girl again. The type of giggle a little girl would have if they were playing a trick on someone. He turned around to see nothing behind him and that's when the laughing stopped. He glared into the darkness and turned on his heel and headed back down the hallway. The little girl started giggling again, more loudly this time. Draco stopped swiftly, but didn't turn around. He took a deep breath and headed back on his way, back to the Great Hall. All went quiet for a moment before he heard the little voice start whispering.

"It's just in my head," he said aloud. "I'm just imagining it."

"You're silly," the voice answered with a giggle. Draco jumped at the sound of it responding.

"Malfoy, why do you look like you've seen… "

"A mudblood?" He finished for her before turning around and smirking. He recognized her voice, but not the other one.

"I should have just let it take you," Hermione told him.

"What are you talking about, Granger?"

"But I won't go away," she spoke slowly to him. She smiled and crossed her arms.

"You are making no sense, Granger. And I don't have time for you, or this," Draco shrugged as he headed back down the hallway, leaving her in the dark corridor.

"Feeling guilty, Malfoy?" She called after to him.

"I don't feel guilty, and I don't have anything to feel guilty for," he yelled back to her with a smirk, even if she couldn't see it.

"Me," was the last thing he heard escape her lips. He looked over his shoulder towards her, but she was no longer there. He hadn't heard her leave the corridor, he hadn't heard anything, but she wasn't there.

"What in the world…" he spoke quietly to himself.

He was at complete at a loss as to what that whole thing was about, but he wrote it off as just being his mind looking for the crap in situations. He hadn't been himself since he had that dream earlier that morning. He decided that instead of trying to go back down to eat at the feast, he would just go straight to the Slytherin Dormitories and sleep.

At that time, it seemed like a pretty good idea to get rid of the sudden attack of paranoia that had come over him. With a quick intake of breath and a slight shake of his head, he started back down the dark and empty corridor, taking the quickest way back to his own dorm for rest. He was sure he was just under some amount of stress, though as much as he tried to convince himself of that, he couldn't help but feel like he was being watched by something other than the normal inhabitants of Hogwarts.


End file.
